Things You Said After It Was Over
by rscoil
Summary: Erik and Raoul deal with the aftermath of Christine's death.


For 8 years, Erik read the Society column whenever he obtained a newspaper. He would never be a part of society, but Christine was.

True to his word, he left her alone and instead followed her life through newsprint. Her engagement, her wedding, the birth of her child. All of these were carefully clipped and stowed away in a scrapbook.

He flipped to today's Society page and his heart skipped a few beats.

"We are saddened to report the passing of the Vicomtesse Christine de Chagny."

* * *

He played her requiem for two weeks. Even when his hands were not touching an instrument, even in his fitful sleep, the music played on.

He was again immersed when the intruder alarm rang, its tone clashing with the organ.

Whoever was interrupting would soon wish they'd never been born.

* * *

A solitary lantern glowed in the fourth cellar as Erik approached, its owner swinging the lamp as though looking for something. Finally, he was able to see their face.

It was the boy. He looked exhausted, his face drawn and careworn. His shoulders were bent with some unseen burden and he no longer had the air of a carefree youth.

"Vicomte."

Raoul jumped and swung the lantern around, though there was nothing to see.

"Erik? Is that you?"

"Why are you here?"

Raoul gulped and tried to keep his voice from shaking. "I have information for you. I just thought you should hear it from me. Christine passed away."

Erik pretended not to hear the way the boy's voice cracked as he delivered the news.

"Thank you, Vicomte, but your concern is unnecessary. I was already aware. Go back to the surface. Good night."

"Wait!" Raoul didn't know where to look. "Can I talk to you? Look, I brought a peace offering." He lifted the bottle of liquor he held in his other hand.

"Why would you wish to talk to Erik? You have already delivered your message."

"Please, I just need to talk to someone who knew her and loved her like I did."

Erik sighed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Raoul took Christine's chair, almost by instinct. Erik passed him an empty glass before wandering off in search of his own liquor cabinet. Raoul had already drained his first glass by the time he returned.

"Well, Vicomte, what exactly do you want from me?"

"I just need to mourn her as she deserves. I need to talk to someone who loved her."

"So you've said. You have an entire estate and an entire family of your own. Do you mean to tell me that a recluse who once tried to kill you is a better confidant than all of those people? What of your son? Does he not share your grief?"

Raoul shifted uncomfortably. "Charles is distraught, but he's also six years old. I need to be strong for him, not collapse into a puddle of tears."

"And the others?"

Raoul only shook his head. "My family was never overly fond of Christine. Philippe already thinks I should move on."

Erik chose not to comment. How dare they think themselves too good for his angel.

Raoul pressed on. "I just needed to talk to someone from Christine's world."

"I have not been a part of Christine's world for quite some time."

"How did you do it? Let her go, I mean. It's been two weeks and I feel like I'm drowning without her."

"That feeling will not go away. Not really," Erik said slowly. "There are things that can numb it, though I would not recommend the majority of them to you. You have a family to think about and your son deserves better than a drunkard as his father."

Raoul looked guiltily at the glass in his hand.

Erik continued. "I let her go because she deserved a better life than I could give her. I was content with the thought that she was happy."

"And now?"

"I expect she still is. I do not know what follows death, Vicomte, but there are those who would say she is in a better place."

"I'm sure she's singing with her father and the Angel of Music."

"She deserves nothing less." Erik tried to inconspicuously wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

"You don't have to wear the mask. You should be comfortable in your own home."

Erik's laughed darkly. "You are not nearly drunk enough for that."

They sat in companionable silence. Erik was struck by how normal the whole thing felt.

"I don't know what to do about Charles," Raoul said at last. "Christine was his world."

"And where were you for all of that? Holding him at arm's length?"

Raoul shook his head. "I've been there all the time. He just likes her better."

"If that's true, what is the reason?"

"I don't know!"

"Tell me, what does he like?"

"Music, I suppose, and Christine's fairytales."

"Are you involved in either of those things?"

"No, they're not in my wheelhouse."

Erik abruptly left the room and Raoul could hear him shuffling through papers in the adjoining room. He returned with a small stack of books, which he deposited in Raoul's lap.

"What's all this?"

"You're going to learn how to engage your son."

Raoul flipped through the books. Most were introductory volumes about music. "He's into music. He'll know all of this already."

"They're not for him, you idiot. They're for you."

"But I'm not a musician."

"Why do you think I'm giving you books? You don't need to be a master, but you need to speak his language."

Raoul paused thoughtfully and reached for the last two volumes in the stack. They were notebooks, each filled with Christine's neat handwriting. "Where did these come from?"

"Christine liked to hear my voice and you know how she loved fairytales. She wrote out her favorites so that I could read them for her."

"She always wanted happily ever after," Raoul whispered. His fingers traced the words in her handwriting.

"And you gave it to her."

Raoul shifted his tear-filled gaze to Erik.

"Then why don't I feel happy?"


End file.
